The Man Known as Harry
by TheAmazingGuyPerson
Summary: The story itself does not solely concern the characters, plots, and situations mentioned in the Harry Potter series. Instead, the story focuses more on J.K. Rowling, her creation, and her struggles when the literary world that she has built becomes a reality. Rated T for Cursing, Violence, Gore, Drug Use, and Sexual Themes. I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.
1. Chapter 1

The Man known as Harry

(Those created will not die unless their author dies or their story ends. If the author is already dead, then the character will die when their time in the book is finished. This is the first rule of recreation.)

"Harry Potter. Age 17-18. Chapter 1. Last paragraph," said J.K. Rowling, loud and clear, as she read the book which was seated prominently at her hands. The book's name was "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows", otherwise known as the last book in the sensational Harry Potter series and is the winner of many, many literary awards. As soon as J.K. finished reading, a loud beep came from one of the intercoms that was placed prominently on the ceiling in her little white room. "We're sorry, Joane, but we really need you speak up. Unfortunately, our mic can't hear you," said the deep voice that came out of the nearest speaker. J.K. Rowling, the book's author, normally would have be calm about these sort of things. She would have been easy going, and she wouldn't mind it so much. Despite this, due to the amount of times she had to record and the many hours it took to do this one, simple line, J.K. was simply unhappy with the results. "Look. I've been sitting here reading the same goddamn line for three bloody hours. Can I at least have a moment to leave this place. Just for a bit. Maybe to get some tea or something." "I'm sorry, Mrs. Rowling. I can't let you do that," replied the voice. In a mixture of ferocity and unhappiness, J.K. sat down in her seat again, and waited for the intercom man to tell her what she needed to do next.  
In what seemed to be less than fifteen minutes, J.K. became nearly twice as impatient and temperamental as before. Like always, J.K. asked the intercom man the same question she's been asking him whenever she became particularly annoyed at him. "Why am I here again?" "You know why. You wanted to participate in this project. Besides the millions, if not billions, of dollars that you acquired for your series, you would have nothing to lose. If we recall correctly, didn't you tell us, 'The day Harry Potter was finished, you felt unreasonably depressed?'" asked the voice. J.K. mumbled, "I guess so." "Well, then, you know what to do."

***  
J.K. propped herself in the chair again, and stared at the two metallic blocks that laid side by side, equidistant from each other and arcing from the tips. J.K. sighed one more time, and whispered that it was going to be all right. That once she was done, she was going to go back home, feed the cat something, and then drink a nice glass of tea. Maybe even get Pottermore updated (which, she knew in the back of her mind, would be a pipe dream). Taking in a deep breath, she read the passage again. "Harry Potter. Age 17-18. Chapter 1. Last paragraph," she said. A few flickering lights were all that came out of the reading. Getting up slowly, J.K. put her hands on her hips. After only a minute or two, she yelled, "Hey, I'd like to go now. I'm tired of all of this, and I'd really like to go home and maybe make myself a nice, hot cup of fucking tea." "I'm sorry, Joane, but we can't let you-" "Screw that! I have to go home! You promised that I could-" "Not until the project is done, Joane! Not until we reach the results we're looking-" "Well, what! We've been doing this for more than five hours! That's what we agreed on! You don't just think you can keep me locked up forever, can you?" shouted J.K. Rowling, her arms crossed in a fiery rage. "We can't just-" "How many times do I have to tell you! I want to -" Suddenly, with the sound of ignitions from the two blocks of steel, a white circle formed in the middle of them. Blinding J.K., it was only seconds before a gray matter appeared to be climbing it's way out of the portal. For the first few minutes, nobody could see what happened, but as color slowly came back into their sights, the gray matter became to look more defined and real. In almost no time, a blind and disorientated Harry Potter became noticeable.

Sluggishly crawling out of the dimming light, the nude Potter took a few steps forward. Surprised, J.K. couldn't help but feel overwhelmed, confused, and lost at the sight of her creation just minutes after her temporary blindness dispersed. As she moved forward towards the battered Harry Potter, and couldn't even believe that he was there, standing just a few inches in front of her. "This can't be possible," she said to herself, but it was. It was almost as if the boy that she had made finally came back to her at last. The boy that she created and had his life made and remade over and over again came to her at last. However, as J.K. motioned over to her creation, in only mere seconds, Harry stumbled onto the floor. "Quick! Get the medics! We need him alive!" excitedly shouted the voice through the intercom. In almost no time, a group of men in white suits came in to take Potter away.  
"Wait, where are you taking him?" she asked, her concern growing. The men in white suits didn't reply as they took him in. "Where are you taking-" she shouted, but before J.K. could finish her sentence, a three of the white suited men came over to her, held her down, and injected her with a clear liquid. Her screams were drowned out by a third man as he pressed his hand against her mouth, her mind slipping into blackness as he continued the act.

*(Author's note: HAI GUYS!:D I know that the psuedo fanfiction I'm writing is a little bit dark, but hey, if you have any questions, comments, or tips, just let me know and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Also, chapter two should be upa sometime in the near future, so stay tuned and stuff. KBAI!)


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello, Joane. Come on, wake up," said a mysterious voice in mist of J.K.'s mind. She could hear him, but she couldn't respond. "Come on! Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey... or whatever they say in that godforsaken country they call America. Terrible place, by the way. Simply terrible. It's just too fattening, and the worst part about it is that even their salads are fattening." Moving her eyelids up just a little bit, J.K. Rowling could only see the light that surrounded her, but eventually her eyesight slowly returned to normal. The shape of a mysterious man, one that she had met before but never had the chance to fully meet in person, came into focus. When her vision finally cleared, J.K. could see who she was with. "Jonas?" asked the confused Rowling, as his face leered over to hers. "Yes, I believe that is correct," he replied, in his cold, James Bond-ish voice. Unlike most of the people J.K. set contacts with, she never had the pleasure of knowing Jonas face to face. In fact, she never even knew what he looked like until now. Long, sleek black hair was, J.K. guessed, his style of combing, and while he dressed professionally, it seemed to be the only thing that he couldn't manage. His attire was all black, with no white whatsoever except for in his sunken, pale blue eyes. As for his figure, Jonas was a rather slender man, with the face that looked like it had previously belonged to a 70-year-old. His voice, however, set a different tone about his age. Deep, dark, and often feigning disinterest, he sounded much like a well built 30-year-old.

"Joane... there's something we need to talk about before we can let you go," Jonas said, as he took out a comb to slick back his hair. "Damn right," replied J.K. weakly. The effect of her words surprised her, and it became obvious that she couldn't talk straight because of either how long she was out, or that thing they injected into her. "What the hell was that? That couldn't possibly be-" "It was," said Jonas. J.K. took a while to take the news in. "Wait, but you said it was just an project. Just something that you were trying to do to see if you could make a hologram of the original Harry Potter. You never said-" "That's because we didn't want you to know, so that way you didn't tell anyone." Jonas, taking out a cigarette, and offered it to J.K. She politely declined, and Jonas put it back into his pocket. After taking a drag from it, Jonas continued.

"You do have to realize that the reason we did this was so that way you could go along with it. The documents that we showed you were all forged. You know, the ones stating how we were some sort of production for a Harry Potter play that we wanted you to be a part of. The ones that said, specifically, the room you were in, was a recording studio, instead of the most guarded, privately-owned testing facility in the U.K. We didn't want you to think that it was anything different than a walk in a park. You record, we listen, and then you go. Besides, you saw that we could keep you there as long as possible until we were done, it was in the documents, so that made it even easier for us." J.K. was taken aback. She had not expected that she had just so happened to walk into one of the most secure locations in the U.K. "But," J.K. began. "But why put it in a building like that? Why put it in there?" "Sometimes secrets are best hidden by putting them out there," casually replied Jonas. "Think about graffiti. You may or may not know this, but even though it's used as a medium for communicating art to a wide range of people, it's also used to communicate either negative or positive things amongst a variety of different gangs. It can also be used to mark territory, or wage war on other rival gangs. So, as long as we made it look as casual as possible, no one would come up and examine what we were doing. Not only that, but for extra measures, we tipped the manager extra if no one bothered us." "But, that doesn't explain-" "Why we wanted you to join the experiment in the first place?" Jonas replied, as he finished his last drag. Throwing the cigarette on the hospital floor, he stomped on it, and looked down for a second.

"There's one specific project that we've been working on for years. Centuries, to be honest, and that is to bring objects that would otherwise seem inanimate into animation. We called it the 'Flesh Project', because it specifically deals with reanimation of the human body." J.K. nodded slightly. "Ok, but still, that doesn't explain how Harry Fucking Potter was able to come into our lives." "We thought you might say that, but it is a rather long story. However, we'll try to be as short with it as we can, because it is rather long." "Don't worry, I have time. It's not like I have anything to do right now," said J.K., crossing her arms. "Well, in that case..."

"The original draft was designed by Dr. Albert Gottfried, one of our fellow scientists who is now, unfortunately, deceased. His theory was that you as long as you had a body that is capable of hosting a human, then you can make him do anything for you. Or, better yet, the test subject can think for himself without having to go through any prior knowledge reviews. My company would fund his project in a variety of different ways, from supplying the dead bodies to even alive ones, until technology finally advanced to the point where we could recreate a human body without having to constantly steal body parts from an number of freshly-dug graves and infirmaries. The machine that you were sitting in front of, the "Prometheus 20", is a tool we commonly use to recreate these bodies. Unfortunately, the test subjects would often have a limited knowledge and would have a difficult time doing simple tasks such as walking, talking, and moving. Therefore, since most of the early test subjects were no longer of any good use to us, in most cases we would dispose of the test subjects effectively and as quickly as we could."

"Which is why you used books," J.K. replied, getting out of her bed a little bit more. "Precisely. With books, the tests subjects were able to move around, learn about their environment, and adapt to it. The test was a miracle, but unfortunately, there was only one problem with these test subjects." "What was that?" "They had a very short life span. Our first test subject, Ariel, died within the first few months. Although she had been materialized as a human, it seems as though she died because of the book she was in. Allow me to explain in a way that may be a little bit clearer. Her suicide in the book, at a time when she couldn't have her lover, seemed to have an effect her brain, where she had to follow the death as to the date as possible. So, as a result, her expected ending, which probably resided in the back of her mind, caused her to splatter into little, bit-size pieces which, in all honesty, did not look good in public. Thankfully, we were inside the lab when this occurred, so all that necessarily meant was that we had to do a little bit of clean-up."

J.K. Rowling frowned, showing disgust at the thought of little Ariel pieces everywhere in the room. However, Jonas, who lacked a large amount of empathy, continued, "It was similar for the rest of the test subjects: Christopher Robins, Cinderella, Pinocchio, and even Pippi Longstockings. What's odd, though, is that they didn't necessarily suffer the same fate as Ariel. This is possibly because of their author's ending. So we made up a couple of laws that we now follow whenever we do a 'resurrection' of each character. Um... can I borrow your pen for a second?" J.K. looked around for some nearby, and turned over to the desk on her right. The time she turned back, though, Jonas told her, "Never mind, found one."  
Taking a thin, coffee stained napkin out of his coat pocket, he began to write on it a bit. After only a minute, Jonas gave it over to J.K. The writing was poor, barely visible, but yet legible enough for Rowling to read it. It stated five, bolded laws:  
Laws of Creation and Recreation for Literary Intellectuals:  
1. Those created will not die unless their author dies or their story ends. If the author is already dead, then the character will die when their time in the book is finished.  
2. Those created will die the death they were intended to die.  
3. If a character is already dead in a novel, then it is impossible to resurrect him back into reality, unless rule two is acted upon.  
4. The author is the God of the character, meaning that he or she can determine what happens in the ending of his or her character and how much they know. However, regardless if the author grants the character eternal life is simply impossible, because it would be a violation of rule one and the body created for them will slowly deteriorate instead.  
5. These rules are absolute and final. Any attempt to break them will cause the author's creation to become destroyed.

"So," started Jonas, as he was about to take out another cigarette, but stopped himself midway. "Those are the rules that we have discovered while we were toying with this technology. However, do you know why we specifically chose you to read that passage?" J.K. sat there, almost as if she was completely unable to communicate back. "I'm... I'm not sure," she replied, her expression showing more and more fear. J.K. couldn't help but feel like she was dealing with some sort of psychopath, but she couldn't help but listen to him. To hear his every word... "We did it because we wanted to discover more rules. We wanted to see if it would be safe to have the author here with her creation, because for all we know, we could be wrong. We wanted more of this experiment to take off, and the only way to do this was to experiment and find out more rules. We knew that there was a high likelihood nothing wrong would happen, but we wanted to make sure because we were curious, and we used you because by this point in your life, you were feeling depressed. Not as many people care about you as they did back then, and you went from being the richest author in the world to the most secluded."

J.K. Rowling looked away for a moment, as Jonas came in closer. "You know this as well as I do. You shut off your friends, your family, and even your kids. Often, because of Harry, you wanted to kill yourself because you felt as though there was nothing else left for you. You felt alone, and desperate, and we gave you something." "But it didn't have to be me," hashed J.K., as she gave a menacing glare back to Jonas. "So you would've chosen suicide?" Jonas replied, as J.K. tried to break his gaze. She couldn't, because even though she was angry with him, his eyes seemed to reflect his calmness in this situation. Jonas took another drag of his cigarette, and then breathed out. "He's in the next door room, if you want to talk to him. He isn't awake yet, but I think you might be better at talking him than I." J.K. would've cut Jonas off. She would've slapped him, told him that he was a worthless piece of shit, and walked off. However, she didn't know what Harry was going to do if he was just left there, in this world, by himself. J.K. knew what she had to do. With only a slight nod, Jonas led her over to Harry's room.


	3. Chapter 3

J.K. looked at her creation as he slept peacefully, unaware of where he was or what he was going to be in for. Harry was everything she imagined he would be. Tall, dark hair, with a tinge of brown, his skinny body twisted and turned through the sheets. "I'll give you a moment," said Jonas, as he took another drag of his cigarette. J.K. Rowling couldn't believe her eyes, as her creation, her own flesh and blood laid in front of her. Carefully, she bent down on the left side of the bed, and whispered to him, "Harry, wake up." He turned a bit, as his bright blue eyes began to open up.  
Harry panicked the first time he saw J.K. Rowling. Almost automatically, he began to try to flail his arms around, as if to try and escape. Despite his efforts, the restraints on his bed kept him away from harming her, but she could still feel the fear in his eyes. "This is what it must feel like to be born," thought Rowling, as she took a few steps back from Harry. It wasn't until about five minutes later that Harry finally calmed down enough to be talked to. The restraint from his mouth was taken off, and his panting was visible. Quivering at each breath, it was easy to to see that he was easily startled by her appearance.

As each restraint was lifted (much to where Harry could at least sit up properly, without having to go berserk once), J.K. sat down right next to him. Harry turned his head next to her, and asked her, "What's going on?" His voice was quivering from a strange combination of curiosity and anxiety, possibly fear that he might have been captured by the Voldemort, the main villain, and that he would never escape his fate. J.K. took a while to respond, as she pondered what to say to the distraught Potter. With only a minute in thought, she responded. "Harry Potter... that is you're name, correct?" asked J.K., her voice at an even pitch. J.K. was just as perturbed as Harry was, but she tried controlling herself a bit. His world was about to fall down on him, and the best she could do was comfort the blow. "Yes... that is my name. How do you know me?" he replied, the quivering of his voice slowly diminishing. "What do you want from me?" J.K. swallowed her saliva for a moment, and then continued. "Have, you ever wondered, that there wasn't a world in which magic didn't exist? That there was no magic, no wizards, no Hermoine, no Ron... no Voldemort? What about a world where you're life was ultimately controlled by an intelligent design... a God, if you will?" Harry, with his quivering only turning into a variety of short and quick breaths, looked at her, and asked her, "Who are you?" J.K. turned away for a bit, trying to grasp hold of her flying emotions and answer the question. "I..." she started. "I am your mother."

Harry stared at her for a few moments, and replied, "You can't be my mother. You don't... you don't look like her." "Harry, I am the one who created-" "Who are you!" he shouted, as he lunged forward, trying to grab J.K. out of her chair. She took a step back, but in no time, Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at J.K. "Expelliarmus!" shouted Harry, as he began swinging his wand around J.K. wildly. Nothing happened. In a moment of disbelief, he tried again. Like the prior result, nothing occurred, which left Harry to throw the useless stick to the side and leave him into shambles. "What did you do?!" asked Harry, in a surprised rage. It chilled J.K. to her soul, but she simply responded, "Harry... if you listen, I will tell you."

Realizing what that what he was doing was ridiculous, Potter sat back into his seat, embarrassed at what he did. He looked away from J.K. for a moment, and then relocked eyes. "I'm sorry. That was wrong of me. I was just-" "Scared?" answered J.K. "Don't worry. I know that feeling all to well." "So... why am I here?" replied Potter, his face showing more curiosity than unfriendliness now. J.K. felt a tinge of love for her character, because she knew that was exactly how she would react in his position. However, she wasted no time in explanation of his purpose. "Harry... this isn't going to be easy for me to explain, but I need you to listen to me, no matter how ridiculous it sounds. Will you do this for me please?" Harry looked, and then replied with a solemn, "Alright."  
"Now we're getting somewhere," J.K. replied, as a small smile appeared on her face. It was an exciting experience, and yet a terrifying one as well, but it much better than her other past alternatives. "The day you were conceived... your world was conceived, was actually on a train. At the time, it was 1990, and the train I was going to was about three to maybe four hours delayed. You were the first person to come to life, really, and then you're friends. You, your troubles, your loves..." "Miss... I don't mean to be a bother, but what are you talking about?" "Harry, two things. Call me Jo, and just wait. It's better that you hear this first, and then you can ask questions. It might take a while for you to get used to the idea." Harry took a few moments to try to comprehend what she was saying, but simply couldn't. Instead, he just nodded and awaited the next sentence that came out of Jo's mouth. Licking her lips, J.K. continued. "After I reached the train station... I began creating you. You were originally just an idea, a plaything when I first created you. Something that I felt I could do when I was bored, but it wasn't until-" J.K. began to choke on her tears a bit, before continuing, "Until my mother died. Then, that's when you became so much more than just an idea. You became my child, and your world became ours." "What do you mean?" Licking her dry lips once again, Rowling struggled for the words to tell him, because she knew that he would never completely understand this world. Finally, she picked up the courage to tell him. "Harry... the world you know, the Wizarding World... was my creation. You are my creation, just like Ginny is my creation, just like Ron is my creation, and Hermione and Voldemort and Dumbledore. You are my work! You are part of my book, and because of the miracles of technology, we were able to take you out of your world and bring you to meet me. You are part of my heart and soul, and I don't know how to tell you any better than this."

Harry sat there, his eyes staring at Rowling as he tried to comprehend what she just said. As he sat there, he tried pushing his glasses up, and with great difficulty, Harry replied, "So... you are my creator?" "Yes," said J.K. Rowling, slowly. "You are part of me... the part that now exists." For Harry took a while to try to cope with his feelings. He wondered who this woman really was, and if she was just some crack pot. He wondered why his spell didn't work, and why he wasn't able to escape, but most of all, he wondered if she was telling the truth. Harry took a long time to respond, but he only spoke two words when he did. "My friends-" "They don't exist in this world. None of them do. Dumbledore doesn't... Hermione and Ron don't... they're all fictional..."

Harry turned over to J.K., and said to her, "They were real to me." J.K. couldn't help but feel the beats of her heart slow down, as if to break and stop forever. The man she had created to reflect her feelings and life hated her, and she didn't know how to feel. "We can bring them back out of the book. You're friends are stuck in there, but the people I've worked with can put them into the real world. We can-" J.K. paused for a moment, remembering that they would have to witness Harry's death firsthand before their own. "Miss Jo, I'm sorry, but it's just not you. It's just... I just don't know what to do." At that moment, J.K. moved over to him, and hugged him. "It's okay... it's been a tough ride for me too. I'm sorry that you had to find out so early... but everything is going to be okay now. You're with me, and there's nothing that Voldemort can do to hurt you anymore. He doesn't exist in this world," she told him, her embrace warm and loving. Harry, who was at first hesitant, hugged her back. They sat there together for a while, until Harry finally withdrew.

"I'm sorry, Miss Jo. It's just that I don't know how to really cope with all of this. I just-" he started, but J.K. placed a hand on his shoulder. "I understand. It's completely natural, and you may not believe me at first, but in due time, you'll find it to be true." With nothing more than a smile, J.K. got up, and then said, "Goodbye," to the young Potter. He didn't reply, but only gave a simple head nod. Closing the door quietly, she looked ahead of her, and sank down into a fetal position on the floor. Putting her hands up to her eyes, she tried to suppress her tears, which, unfortunately could not.


	4. Chapter 4

Jonas, sipping on a coffee that he got from one of the nearby Starbucks, was walking over Harry's room when he found J.K. sitting there, staring at the ground. It seemed as though she was sitting there for a bit more than thirty minutes, but he didn't know for sure. "Um..." he started, confused as to how to approach the situation. "There, there... I guess." Unfortunately for Jonas, it didn't stop J.K. from avoiding him. "Wow, I really suck at these kind of things, don't I?" Jonas said to himself quietly. Clearing his throat a bit so that way he could try again. He continued, "Look. I know that this is a new experience for you, and I think that it's going to be a tough thing for both you and Harry. So, I suggest maybe going home and getting some tea." For a moment, J.K. looked up, and replied, "Oh... so now you're going to let me get some tea." "Yes... do you want to go or not?" said Jonas, as he sipped his coffee again. "We could always use you for more experiments, if you like?" Finally, J.K. got up, and gave Jonas a menacing look.

"You know, Jonas. I don't think I've ever told you this, but you're an asshole. You know that?" "Most people have different ways of letting out their anger. I guess yours is taking it out on me." J.K.'s hand was rolled up into a fist, but before she even thought about punching Jonas, he continued, "But, then again, it was rather wrong of me to put you there for a while. I'm not saying I'm sorry for that, because it was necessary... but I'm sorry that you had to suffer because of my company's decisions."

"And you just think that's going to make things all better?" J.K. asked sarcastically. "No... but hopefully it was some consolation for what you've been through. Besides, you've got another assignment tomorrow." "Wait, what?" "Harry's your responsibility as much as ours. Even though the documents were faked, you agreed to work with us, and we can always void these contracts by saying that you 'were injured on sight'." "Wait... you don't mean... NO! You wouldn't do that, that's... that's-" "Illegal? Please, Joane, I don't want you to get hurt, but you have to work with me if you don't want this to happen to you. Believe me, I've seen how some of the men in this company operate when it comes to dealing with an unwilling patient, and it's not pretty." J.K. looked away for almost a minute, but Jonas brought his hand over to her face, and turned it to face his. "Please. I need you."

It took only a few moments, but J.K. finally replied, "Ok. Just don't expect me to be all happy about this." "I'm not asking you to feel happy... but I'm glad that you took this choice instead of the latter," he replied with a weak, slanted smile. "I'll contact you on the details tomorrow, but keep in mind that it's not set in stone and that it could be at any given moment. In the meantime, have fun." With that last statement, Jonas turn around and left J.K. there, leaving only a slight hand-wave as he walked away from her. J.K. waved back. "There's something about that man," she thought to herself, as she sat there only a few more minutes, trying to comprehend what just happened.

J.K. couldn't sleep peacefully that night. All she could think about was what Harry was going to be like in the morning. Even though there was a rather short period of time where Harry was integrated with muggle society, J.K. knew better than probably anyone else that he would feel very isolated. She felt as though it would be difficult for him to really adjust because, quite frankly, he never felt normal around others. Harry would feel like an outcast in a sea of conformists, muggles, and normal people, and now that the magical world that he had lived in for so long had been destroyed, J.K. knew that it would take months, maybe even years for him to totally recover.

J.K. rolled over to her side again, trying to make the best of the situation. "Maybe he'll be better by tomorrow," J.K. kept telling herself, as if she was counting sheep. Eventually, J.K. finally found sleep, but only a few hours later the phone rang. At first, J.K. fell out of her bed, startled, and hit the ground hard. After only a few moments, she was able to regain her balance and got back up. Looking over at the clock she had on the nearby nightstand, she tried to feel for her glasses so that way she could see the time. Despite having perfect 20/20 vision in her younger years, J.K. slowly turned more and more near-sighted as time went on, almost to the point where she had to be face to face with an object in order to read it. When she finally found her glasses, she put them on and looked at the clock. The clock shouted in big, bolded letters that it was currently 3:00, and then turned over to the nearby phone.

"Who the fuck would be calling at this hour?" J.K. thought to herself, groggily, as she tried to decide whether or not to walk over there and answer the phone. It only took her a few minutes to realize that it was probably Jonas, and by the time her phone gave it's fifth ring, she ran over to the other side of her relatively large apartment to answer it. "*beep* Hi, this is Jo. I'm not here at the moment, but if you could please-" said the voicemail, only to be interrupted only by the panting Rowling. "Hello?" J.K. asked, gasping in between breaths. "Hello, Joane. I'm guessing you were not expecting me," said the voice. It was Jonas. "I can't say that I'm particularly happy about your lack of preparedness, but now that you're here, I can't really complain. Meet me in King Cross no later than 9:00. You should have more than enough time to get there." Before J.K. had a chance to respond, a slight click at the end of her phone signaled her that Jonas was no longer available.

J.K. sighed. She had a hunch as to what was going to happen over there, but she didn't want to think about it right this second. As J.K. took off her nightgown, it took her only twenty minutes to take a shower and get dressed. Brushing her teeth took only a minute, while it took her a solid thirty minutes to eat breakfast. Heading over to her car, she went to the local railroad station to purchase some tickets, taking her almost thirty minutes to get there. It took her about an hour or so for her to get a ticket to King Cross's Station, which was lucky considering that it would sometimes be a difficult thing to do. If you were unlucky you could be sitting there for more than three hours. Unfortunately, J.K. had to wait another fifteen minutes until the train finally came.

While on the train, which commuted a total of nearly four hours and thirty minutes, J.K. pulled out a small notebook. It was one that she previously wrote in whenever she had an idea, but mostly ideas were supposed to be for books yet never came out. Taking a moment, she looked at the small, cursive letters that she had left on the paper from yesterday. Options was the first word on the top of the list, and below it was nothing but blank space. J.K. pulled out a pen from her purse, and began writing on the paper. By the time she was done, the formerly blank piece of paper that she had written in turned into a plethora of words and dashes:

Options  
- Option 1: Live with Harry until he dies; Likely  
- Option 2: Ask Jonas if Harry can live with him; Unlikely  
- Option 3: Ask Jonas to resurrect Harry's friends and have them live together so they won't be lonely; Possible  
- Option 4: Have Harry live on his own; Unlikely

Instead of continuing down the list, J.K. Rowling took a brief second and looked at the final possibility. She rubbed her eyes a bit, and stared at it for longer than time could tell. " *ding dong ding* You have now arrived at your destination. King Cross. Please take your belongings, and exit the train. Thank you and have a nice day," said the woman on the recording. J.K. put away the notebook, and headed out of the train station, but the final option still rang in her head.

- Option 5: Kill Harry and so he won't have to suffer in this world; Likely


	5. Chapter 5

As J.K. Rowling walked out of the train and took a few steps forward, she looked around for Jonas. There were some people over at the train station, but it was mostly covered with tourists who were just staying over for a few days or so. Despite this, it was rather difficult for J.K. to spot him. "I see you're late," said the Jonas's voice behind her. J.K. Rowling turned around, surprised and almost scared by his presence. "Come on, let's walk," he said to J.K. Reluctantly, J.K. followed. "Where the hell did you come from?" asked J.K., slightly frightened. "Oh, just happened to be walking around. You're late," Jonas replied, as he took another drag of the cigarette that was placed so prominently on his lips. "Well, I'm sorry. I don't necessarily have the power to control what other people do. I was delayed for fifteen minutes." "Tsk, tsk. Excuses, excuses." "Jonas, what's your fucking problem?" asked J.K., as if she was offended by his presence. Taking his last drag, Jonas stopped for a moment, took the cigarette out of his mouth, and pointed at one of the local columns. "Do you see that over there?" Jonas asked.

It took J.K. a few moments to notice, but it seemed as though there was a man who had his head lurched forward. The man seemed to be staring at the ground, but because of some of the tourists that kept walking in front of her, J.K. could rarely make out what he was doing or who he was. However, when the next train came along and all the passengers boarded, the man's appearance came more into focus. He seemed to be lanky and skinny, almost anorexic, but the clothes he wore were much baggier and looser, similar to what a thug would wear. The thing that stuck out the most to Rowling, though, was his knuckles. They were bloodied and unprotected, as they held fast to a shopping chart.

Suddenly, the man began to move forward a bit and began to pick up his speed. Within only a few moment, he was sprinting towards the wall, as if to try to break it down. Unfortunately for him, it didn't happen that way. With enough force to break a bone or two, he crashed into the wall, and screamed out in pain. No one really paid much attention to the vagabond, and some felt some pity for him and their pounds at him. However, when the man finally stopped crying, he wiped his bloodied hands across his crying face, and picked himself up. At that moment, J.K. could see the face of the man. It was Harry.  
"That... that is my fucking problem," said Jonas, as he lit his cigarette. Turning over to J.K., Jonas continued, "Look, I've done my part. It's time that you do your fucking part, too. It took me six hours to find him, and to be honest that was not a fun." "Well, why didn't you stop him earlier, then?" asked J.K., her voice feigning annoyance. "I felt as though he should've gotten a firm understanding that he wasn't in the fairytale land that you set for him anymore. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to bed. I'm tired as all hell, but I'll see you later or something," replied Jonas as he walked away. Before J.K. could pull him aside and get his help, he disappeared into a crowd of people, and left her alone with Harry.

J.K. took a deep breath, and began walking over to Harry. "At the rate he's going, he's going to die from blood loss if I don't do something," thought J.K. At the moment, J.K. didn't know how to approach the situation. "It just has to be quick, calm, and understanding. This is probably because of he doesn't believe that his world is fictional, and that he's willing to do anything he can to get back to it. I have to be rational, but sincere. That's what I need to be."  
When J.K. finally came up to Harry, he looked in worse condition than she previously thought. Not only were his hands bleeding, but also his face and cheeks suffered abrasion as well. He was dirty, almost filthy, as if he had rolled in a mixture of loose granite and dirt, and his eyes were bloodshot. Standing there for just a few moments, J.K. called out his name. "Harry," was the first word to come out of her mouth, but it didn't stop him from trying again. Harry picked up his pace, and rammed into the wall. He didn't get up this time, and as J.K. rushed over to him. "Harry!" J.K. screamed, as she knelt by his side.  
J.K. checked his pulse. "He's still alive," J.K. told herself. "At least he's okay... I'm probably going to need to call an am-" before J.K. could finish her sentence, she was cut off by Harry. "I'm fine, I'm fine," said the groggy Potter. With a few grunts and moans, he was able to get back up, but it was obvious that he wasn't doing so well. He leaned on the wall, trying to keep his balance, but unfortunately couldn't and began falling. Acting quickly, J.K. quickly reached out for Harry's chest, and pulled him back up. "Come on, let's get you home," said the unsure J.K. Rowling. She couldn't go back to her home, mainly because she felt as though it was going to be too long of a ride over there, and by that time who knows what could happen Harry. "Stay with me," J.K. told Harry gently, as she put his arm around his shoulder, and hurried off to the nearest hotel.

Harry slowly opened his eyes, as everything came into a blur. He tried getting up, but for him it hurt too much, mainly in his back, abdominals, and chest. "Don't stress yourself, Harry. You're going to be hurting for a while," said a voice in the background. "Who are you?" asked Harry, as he felt for his glasses on the side of the table. For some reason, Harry didn't feel as scared as before, but instead felt rather safe. When he finally found his glasses, he put them on as the world around him came into clarity. Harry looked at the room, and noticed that it wasn't at all friendly or welcoming. Possibly because of the bars that were placed on the outside of the windows, as the paint from the walls were becoming more and more worn down. Cockroaches and mouses seemed to be somewhat common around the floorboards, but the number one thing that rang out the most to Harry was that there was no door. Suddenly, a white-haired woman appeared at the doorway. It was J.K.

"How are you feeling?" asked J.K. Harry didn't honestly know how to reply. He was so taken aback as to how he even got here, that he was unsure of even how he felt. "Confused would be a good word," he replied. J.K. looked at Harry a bit, as he turned away, trying to assess the damage done to his body. Trying to adjust himself a bit, Harry moved a little bit up, but felt an intense pain coming from his body. "Sore would be another one." "How long were you out there?" J.K. asked, as she took out a small medical kit. "A couple of minutes. Twenty, Thirty-" "Bullshit. If you're going to tell me the truth, then do so, but don't tell me those lies," said J.K., her face looking towards the medical box as she opened it. J.K. then pulled out a small container of alcohol and a gauze, applying it all directly to Harry's forehead. "Ow!" shouted Harry, as he tried to contain the pain. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's just that you really shouldn't do this to yourself." "Maybe if you're world didn't get destroyed, then you would understand how I felt," rebutted Harry. J.K. didn't reply.

In just a five minutes, the pain receded gradually for Harry. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can't take you to the hospital right now. Just be glad that you didn't break any bones," said J.K., as she wiped the rest of the blood off of the wound. "Any deeper and we would've taken you there, though, but it would be a hassle." "You should've left me there, Miss Jo," said Harry, as he looked J.K. directly in the eye. "All by yourself? I think not. Although you may want to kill yourself, I want you to live," replied J.K., as she stood up. Harry looked back at her, and J.K. took in a breath and continued. "Look, I'm sorry that it had to come to this. I'm sorry that your world, the one I created, came crashing down on you... and most of all, I'm sorry that you had to suffer for it. It was a difficult thing for you to accept, which is why you tried all you could to break down Platform 9 and 3/4 and go back into the world you were most familiar with. However, the reason I stopped you was because if you didn't stop, you would be dead, and I would never hear the end of it from Jonas... but most of all, there is another reason I didn't want you dead." "Why? What could possibly be the reason?" asked Harry, giving J.K. a menacing look. "Well, I'll tell you why, if you give me the chance," J.K started, as she looked down thoughtfully. "It's because I care about you, Harry. I cared about you the moment you were first created, and I know that I am at fault for causing the hardships in your life. Your losses, and your failed dreams, but you are important to me, and I care about you more than my own life."

Harry stopped for a moment, and looked at her. He didn't say a word more, and he just kept quiet. J.K. sighed for a bit, and continued, "Get some sleep. Even though you stood out there for a good seven hours bumping into that thing, it's amazing your muscles didn't give out yet. Still, just get enough sleep for now. If you don't, you're going to feel much worse later on in the day, and besides, if you're good, I might treat you out to some ice cream or something." Harry shrugged, but his eyes lied about his feelings. "Well, I guess I'll get going now," said J.K. as she began to close the door. "Sweet dreams." Harry didn't respond, but before J.K. completely closed the door, she heard a quiet, "Thank you."

_(Author's Note: Hey guys!:D Well, this is just my fifth chapter of the series, and I'm just letting you know that you for all of the support and care you put into this project with me. For now, I think I'm going to go take a bit of a break so that way I can recharge my imagination batteries, but if you would like to check out some more awesome stuff, go over to the Fantom of Fanfiction. She is amazing! Anyway, have an awesome day, and hopefully I'll be able to get back to this in a few days time if I can. Stay awesome. Bye!:D)_


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey, Jonas," asked J.K. in the other room, while Harry slept quietly. He had slept there for almost two hours now, and although Harry had gotten over the majority of the injures he sustained, but J.K. was still worried for him. She was worried that probably he didn't get anything to eat, and that he would pass out the second he got up and wouldn't wake up again this time. She was worried that he wasn't going to be able to walk or really move around like before. However, despite all of these things, J.K. considered herself lucky because she was able to come as soon as she could to help him.  
"Goddammit, Joane. I go to sleep for a bit, you know, because I'm tired of looking after your mess for so damn long, and the first thing I hear from you is that I have some more shit to do," he said groggily. Stunned, J.K. left no reply. This was the first time that Jonas has ever talked to her like that. It almost seemed as if he was something even close to human. "So... what is it?" "Oh, well... it's just that at that time we were in the subway, I think Harry didn't get anything at all and he might be starving by the time he wakes up. Not only that, but I feel that he might suffer a lot from the wounds he inflicted on himself when he wakes up. What should I do?" J.K. stuttered, as she tried to come up with something good to say. "Ugh... look, here's what you do. Remember those five, simple rules for recreation, right?" "Yeah, I remember that." "Well, look at it more often. They don't just say shit to say it. It should say something along the lines of you being able to help the character and how he acts, or at least something like that. Don't bother asking me how it works right now, I'm just as tired as fuck. It's just science or some shit like that." J.K. thought about it for a moment, and said, "Oh... okay. Thank you." "Don't worry about it," replied the annoyed Jonas. Before J.K. could ask him any more questions, a loud beep came from her phone. "Rude," J.K. muttered, as she stared at the phone for a few seconds.  
J.K. sat down at the table, and tried to think of what to write. It should've been a simple and easy thing for her, but she sat there for about an five minutes, doing nothing except look at the paper. It was an odd experience for her, to write again. After so many years of not being able to do anything, she finally had something in mind. J.K. no longer felt like a waste of space, and with that, she strew together her first set of words:  
"Harry, unlike most people, was able to recover from most of his injuries at an alarming rate due to the protective charm Hermione placed on him before he disappeared."  
J.K. stopped for a moment, wondering if any of the results would have any effect on Harry, so she decided to write and experiment a little bit more:  
"Because of the final spell, Harry was able to overcome his scar, and look normal."  
J.K. stopped writing for a bit, got off the computer, and then went over to Harry's room. He laid peacefully there, as he quietly snored in content. As J.K. slowly walked over towards the sleeping Potter, she lifted his hair up a bit, just to check. To her dismay, the effects of her writing did not work. The scar that had been left on Harry's forehead was still there, standing as prominent as ever. "Damn it, Jonas," whispered J.K. as she walked back to her room.

Unfortunately, as J.K. exited the doorway, there was a loud creak that came out of the floorboards. Stumbling at first, Harry slowly opened his eyes and let out a bit of a sigh. "Ugh... what the bloody hell?" said Harry, as he groggily dragged himself out of bed. J.K. tried to get out of the room, but Harry caught her before she had a chance to escape. "Hey... what's going on?" he asked, confused.  
As Harry put on his eyeglasses, J.K. turned around, and told him, "Oh, nothing. Just wanted to see how you were doing." "Oh, okay then. Well, you could've at least been a little bit subtle about it." "I'm sorry. I won't try to bother you again." "Don't worry about it. I was just getting a little bit tired of just sleeping anyway," said the sore Harry, as he tried sitting up. A small groan came from him as he tried getting up. "Here, let me hel-" said J.K., but Harry interrupted. "It's okay, I got this," he replied, as he pulled his legs over the side of the bed. As he placed his feet on the ground, he tried standing up properly, and J.K. couldn't help but notice how he was able to keep his balance. However, within mere seconds, his legs began to shake, and he fell down.  
"Harry!" cried J.K., as she rushed over to him. "It's okay. I'm fine, I'm fine," Harry said weakly, as J.K. helped him up. J.K. tried bringing him back to the bed, but Harry detested. "I've gotten this far. I should at least make it over to the kitchen," Harry added stubbornly. J.K. sighed, as she walked him over towards one of the barstools in the kitchen. Sitting down slowly, Harry looked over at J.K. and said his thanks. "It's no problem, Harry. Any time," J.K. replied, as she headed over towards the fridge.  
"What do you want, dear?" asked J.K., as she looked over to see what she had. Harry, who was too busy looking at the computer, asked, "Wait... what?" "I asked you wanted to drink? We have orange juice, and some-" J.K. stopped mid-sentence, as she stared at Harry. "My God... it really happened." Taking only a second to close the refrigerator, she asked Harry, "Um... what are you doing?" Harry turned around in shock. "Oh! I was just... um..." he started, but wasn't exactly sure how to finish the sentence. "Were you looking at my work?" "Well..." "Harry, this is important. Were you looking at my work?" Harry looked down for a moment and gave a silent nod. J.K. looked at him, and said to the young Potter, "Give me a moment. I'll be right back."  
As J.K. left the room, Harry looked back at the screen. "Why would she write something like this?" he thought, as he tried to comprehend exactly what was going on. Harry started to wonder if J.K. was mad, if she was trying to create more of him for one reason or another, or maybe a better version of himself. However, all of these thoughts were dismissed as soon as J.K. came back into the room, holding a tiny mirror. "Here, look into this," said J.K., her face solemn. "Miss Jo, I'm not sure what you-" "Please, just do this. I think you need to see this for yourself." As Harry took the mirror, he looked into his face. Everything was as it should have been. There were no third eyes, no deformed ears, nothing. "Miss Jo, I really don't see-" "Look at your forehead," J.K. interrupted, crossing her arms. As Harry looked back at his reflection, he lifted up his hair with his hand. All of the sudden, something odd and life changing happened to him. His scar, the thing that stood as a trademark of Voldemort's hatred for the majority of his life, was gone. Harry was so surprised, that he jumped out of his seat and landed on the ground. "OH MY GOD!" he shouted, in a confusion of panic and joy. J.K. smiled a bit, and then helped him back to his feet. "Oh my God," said Harry, almost unbelievingly. "How did you... what the..." "It's one of the few things we've noticed about our patients such as yourself. They have a small region in their brains that send out a message which is linked directly to the writers message. We are somewhat like co-pilots, in a sense. We're able to give you life and use it for the bet-." Harry didn't even think about responding to her. Instead, he hugged her before she could finish her sentence. Harry was stunned at how she was able to do this, especially when most wizards couldn't do it, and for this, J.K. felt alive again.


	7. Chapter 7

"So where are you taking me?" asked the delighted Harry, as J.K. walked down the street with him. Due to what she wrote, she noted that Harry was feeling much better because of treatment. Although J.K. knew that it would produce the desired result, she was still stunned at how quickly he was able to recover from his wounds, and how she could use this to better his life. J.K. smiled at him, and told him, "Just some place. I can't tell you though, because it's a secret, but I know you're going to love it." "Well, pardon me when I say this, but from what I've heard, us Brits don't really have good food," grinned Harry. "Hey, at least we aren't those Americans who just clog their food with all types of fat," J.K. replied, smiling back at Harry. Suddenly, J.K. covered Harry's eyes, and said to him, "Turn around for a moment." As he did so, J.K. pointed him toward's one of the local signs that said Vernes. "Ta-dah!" said J.K., as she uncovered Harry's eyes and beheld the place they were going to eat. Harry smiled. "So this is the ice cream place we're going to eat at?" "Yep! What I've heard is that it's pretty low-fat, so it's also kinda good for you." Harry was stunned. "Well, we'll see about that," he smiled, as J.K. opened the door for him. "You know, it isn't really custom for the woman to open the door for the man." "Well, I thought it was the least I could do for all the hardships you've been through," said J.K., the lightness of her tone dumbing down a bit. Harry didn't continue any further, and went over to the menu to check out what they had.  
Taking only a few moments to order, Harry got the double fudge sunday, while J.K. got what she normally had: Orange sherbet with a little bit of mint ice cream. As they sat down, Harry was the first to talk about his meal. "Well, I do have to say that this is pretty good," he remarked, as he at the first scoop of ice cream. J.K. smiled. "I still can't help but remember the first time that I took you out for ice cream. You asked for butter beer ice cream, and everyone in the place just stared at you awkwardly," said J.K., as she scooped up a small piece of her ice cream. "Yeah. Even one girl recognized you, and asked for your autograph." "What's even funnier is when I told her that you were Daniel Radcliffe's son," J.K. grinned wildly, as she put the treat into her mouth. Harry just smiled casually. "Yeah, but I still have to meet the guy." "Yeah, but don't worry. You will in due time."  
Once they were finished with their ice cream, a waitress came over to their table, and took up the dishes. J.K. noticed that the waitress couldn't help but notice her and Harry sitting together, but unlike the first time they went out for ice cream, this waitress didn't ask for their autographs. "Thank you for the ice cream, Jo," said Harry, as he took the bill. "Hey, don't worry about it. Believe it or not, that's what happens when you become a billionaire," said J.K. Harry drew one of the napkins out of it's dispenser on the table, and as he was patting his face to wipe off the chocolate marks from his mouth, he put it down for a second, and then asked J.K., "Why aren't you as popular as before?"  
J.K. looked down at the table for a moment, and then told him, "Well... there are some things that I'd just rather not tell you right now, Harry." "Jo, we've been living together in this small, cramped apartment now for a few months now," persisted Harry, but J.K. shrugged it off. "It's really only been two months." "Still, I think I have a right to know what happened. I want to know what went wrong," Harry said. J.K. sighed, and then crossed her arms. "You really want to know." "Yes. From what I've heard, you're one of the best writers in the world. You created something that followed along Shakespeare's dreams and hopes, and you made reading a thing amongst many reluctant teenagers. I just want to know where you went wrong." "Well... okay. I'll tell you, but it's going to be a long story, and it doesn't have a happy ending," said J.K., as she got up. "Come on, walk with me."

"It all started when I finally finished the last chapters of your story," started J.K., as she walked down with him. Harry listened intently, even as the cold, hard rain poured down on his head as they walked down the street. "I was younger than I am now. Not as tired and poor as I am now, but I was lighthearted and enjoyable, with a large dash of maturity, I'd say. It was just recently that I released my book, Casual Vacancy, which opened up numerous medals and accolades for the work, and I continued to produce multiple books, some relating to Casual Vacancy, others not as much. Unfortunately for me, my books weren't selling as well as they used to, and by the time I released my last book, the Sign of King George, I had completely given up on writing. My husband died a long time ago, and the children had already grown up and began producing children of their own, but dropped me out of their lives. It was difficult for me for the next few years, with getting pissed drunk most of the time, and just trying to live on my own for the first time in a long time. I just didn't know what to-"  
J.K. paused for a moment, as she looked at a nearby bookstore. She took a few moments to stare at it, and then said, "This is the first place I saw my book on shelves." Harry looked up too, and asked, "Really?" "It's exactly as I remember it..." she dozed off. Suddenly, J.K. looked over at Harry, and then said to him, "Come on, Harry. There's something I want to show you."

J.K. walked up confidently to the cashier, and asked him if they sold Harry Potter books. "Ah, Mrs. Weathers, I see your back again," said the pimply cashier, as he stroked his long, orange hair with his comb. "Yes... yes I am," replied J.K. casually. "You've been out for a while, which is kinda strange considering that you normally come over here whenever you want to get a book. Anything going on in your life?" asked the cashier, obviously not paying attention now. "No... just went on vacation for a bit. A very wild vacation, but yet it was worth it." "Okay, but who's the new guy? He your son or something?" "Oh, nooooo... he's just one of the people interested in a musical I might be putting up in the future." "Fascinating," said the cashier, as he continued to twirl his hair around. J.K. sat impatiently at the counter, until she started tapping her foot impatiently. The cashier looked back at her, as if to not notice that she was waiting on something, and stopped twirling his hair.  
When J.K. finally got his attention, she asked him, "Do you have any Harry Potter books by any chance?" The cashier sucked in his cheeks, as if to signal he wasn't sure of it. Quietly, Harry asked J.K., "Um... Jo. What are you doing?" "Hold on you'll see," replied J.K., as she turned to face the cashier. "Yeah... yeah I think we might have some in the back of the store, but I can't be for sure. I mean, you are really the only customer who comes here nowadays, and since everything's electronic..." said the cashier, only to be cut off by J.K. "It's okay. I just want to see if it's there, but thanks for your help." "It's no problem, Mrs. Weathers. Just take your time."  
As Harry and J.K. went down the aisles upon aisles of books, it J.K. viciously scanned the rows for the book. "Come on, come on. It has to be there somewhere," said J.K., as she worked down each and every column. "Jo, I don't mean to sound rude, but why are you looking for this book?" asked Harry innocently. "Sshhh... don't talk, just listen," J.K. replied to him, her eyes finally spotting the book. "Ah! There we go!" J.K. blew the dust away from the slightly torn Harry Potter book. It looked as if it was handled so many times that it could fall apart right now. The title of the book was displayed prominently as "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone." J.K. looked at it in glory, while Harry's curiosity grew. "Do you see this?" asked J.K., as Harry looked down at the book. "Yes... yes I do." "This is the first time you were created. Not just the idea of you, but you as a person," said J.K., as she tossed the book over to Harry. "Here, read it. It's good stuff, and I should know. I wrote the damn thing."  
Flipping over the pages, Harry began skimming through them, as J.K. looked at him, a confident smile approaching her face. She knew that the day would come where she would need to introduce Harry to the way he was originally born, and she hoped that he would take it well. Surprisingly, it went better then expected, until Harry began slowing down a bit. He looked back up at J.K., and asked her, "Jo... this is amazing." "I know. I created this book because at the time, you were my life. You were part of my life, and you were so important to me that through this novel I decided to raise you up to be the man you are today. Isn't it wonderful?" asked J.K., as she grinned wildly. Harry wasn't grinning. "Yes... but my friends. The people I care about are trapped in this book, waiting for the day of their execution, without any knowledge of it or any idea of what's going to happen to them..." "But Harry, they were meant to serve the path they were put-" "No, Miss Jo. You sent them on that path for reasons that were greedy and selfish," started Harry, his voice rising a bit. "For nearly seven years, I've had to deal with a man who killed my parents, who would talk to me as I slept, telling me how he was going to kill me if he found me, while my friends were dying, left and right. Dumbledore did not deserve to die, but you made him because it was all part of your 'plan'. Sirius died because it was part of your 'plan' too, but what sickens me the most is that you bring this up as a good thing." "Harry, listen I can help you. I can make it so that way those people are-" "You say a lot, but you don't do anything. For months now, I've been trying to suppress the urge to lash out at you, because you have treated me well and right. However, I can't help but feel angry about the fact that you would do that in order to make a profit." "Harry, please listen to-" "No, I'm done listening," finished Harry.  
J.K. tried to stop him and grabbed his arm, but he jerked away from her. "Where are you going?" asked J.K., nervously. "Out," replied Harry, as he left the building. J.K. ran after him, but because her feet were not what they used to be, she couldn't keep up with him, and lost him in the crowd of people. "He's gone," she thought, as half of her mind raced as to where he might be and the other half concerned as to what might happen to Harry.

*(Author's Note: I'M BACK, BITCHES!:D However, because of schoolwork and reading/writing essays I have to do, I'm going to have to post up chapters every week or so instead of every single day. I'm sorry that it's like this, but hey, just hang in there bros. We're getting to the good shit. :) Hope you have an amazing day, and stay awesome.)


	8. Chapter 8

J.K. couldn't help but cry. The moment Harry ran away from her was the moment she lost all self-control and started bawling out on the streets. As she hurried into the nearest store bathroom, she cried for a bit, and then called Jonas. "Jonas..." she sniffled in between tears."Yes?" "I need to talk to you about something... you know Harry?" "Yeah, it's okay. I already know where he is. Don't worry about him, he'll be back in the hotel in no time. He's just upset right now." J.K. stopped for a second, and then took a minute to think about what was going on. In the dank, dirty bathroom, J.K. got up a bit, and wiped her tears away. "Wait... how did you know that he left?" J.K. asked, still upset, but calming down a bit. "We're asked to put a small chip just below the skin of the subject's neck, right near jugular. It's necessary in case they happen to run away from us, so that way we can still monitor their progress." Taking only a moment to stand up from the disgusting toilet seat, she began walking and forth. "Jonas... we need to talk?" "Okay, when?" "Whenever possible, but I'm open for tomorrow. I want to talk to you about something... a few things I really don't feel comfortable with." Jonas paused for a moment, almost as if he was whispering to someone in the background. "Okay, okay. Just give me a few moments," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, just someone I was talking to. Anyway, yeah, we can do that, but I'm a bit busy right now. So why not Tiffany's tomorrow?" "For breakfast?" "Yeah, why not?" "Well, okay then," J.K. said. Tiffany's wasn't the best place to have breakfast, but at least decent. "Good, I'll see you then," said Jonas, but before they even had a chance to discuss this further, a click came from Jonas's side. "Dammit Jonas," muttered J.K., as she put away her phone and walked back home.

When J.K. came back to the apartment, she walked over to the hotel, and noticed that Harry was already fast asleep. She spent some time on the internet, and before she went to bed, she took a shower and put away her dentures. As J.K. walked towards her bed, she stopped for a moment, and then turned towards the door. She entered, and looked at Harry from a view. He was laying on his side, away from J.K., so as J.K. went over to the other side, she looked down at him. Harry slept calmly, as J.K. looked over him. Bending down a bit, J.K. kissed Harry on his cheek carefully, and then hurried back to bed, without making a noise.

(Author's Note: I apologize if it's not the most grammatically or long chapter in the world right now. I'm currently trying to get all my stuff together for school, but I promise you guys, Chapter 8 is going to be amazing. :D Have an awesome day, bros!)


	9. Chapter 9

"Late as always," said Jonas, as he took a sip of his plain, black coffee. J.K. was panting, unhappy about the fact that Jonas should have told her when they were going an hour beforehand instead of just five minutes ago. Nevertheless, J.K. took a seat, and then looked around. "Geesh. The least you could do is take a shower," Jonas grimaced, as he put the coffee down for a second. "So, what is it?" Taking only a moment to recollect her thoughts, J.K. swallowed her saliva and then continued. "Jonas... I would like to rewrite Harry's story," J.K. started, a eery silence entering the room.  
The waitress came by and interrupted them, as Jonas stared at J.K.'s eyes. "Oh, why 'ello there! I see we 'ave a new customa sitting wit chu! What can I get you, deary?" the waitress, her colloquial accent showing. "She'll have some black coffee, if that's alright," Jonas replied, not taking the common curtesy to look back at the waitress. She only shrugged. "Alright den," she said quietly, as she jotted it down. As the waitress left, Jonas took another sip of his coffee, put it down, and then crossed his arms, looking into J.K.'s eyes. "At least your straightforward, but I'm sorry, Joane. I'm not allowed to interfere with Harry's progress." J.K. had a nagging feeling about Jonas. It was almost as if Jonas was never going to budge. Calmly, she replied, "I just want the best for-" "I know you do, but we can't do that. You've already written the story, and that shouldn't change. Besides, just because you want something to be changed doesn't mean that it should." "But..." J.K. said, flustered a bit at how Jonas could be so authoritative. How he could just say something, and turn it into law just like that. "But I did it before." Jonas stopped drinking his coffee, and stared into her eyes, wide-eyed. "You did what?" he asked, a grime look dawning on his face.

Several seconds passed before J.K. could reply, but she was nervous. She couldn't stop brushing her hair, and looking away from Jonas's eyes, while he stared at her. The waitress stopped by, and gave the coffee to J.K. "Thank you," J.K. said, her hands trembling a little bit. The waitress noticed, but all she could do is nod and leave, as she went back into the kitchen.  
All of the sudden, Jonas grabbed J.K.'s neck, and pulled it closer to him. "Now, listen here you insignificant, crazy-ass bitch!" he hissed, but so frightening and intimidating that J.K. cringed with every word. "There is NO exception for this. None, whatsoever, and you're lucky enough that I'm not allowed to skull-fuck you with every sharp, metallic object in here! Now, listen to me!" His grip was too tight for J.K. to breath, choking as she tried pulling away. Jonas licked his lips, his one hand still clutched to J.K.'s throat, and continued.  
"Within the next 24 hours, I want you to walk out of here, and never see Harry again. If you refuse, I will end you right here and now. If you accept and visit him, I will end you then and there. Understood?" J.K. struggled for the words, and then with a terrified screech, she replied, "Yes!" "Good," said Jonas, as he let go. J.K. gasped for breath, as she breathed in and out heavily. Within breaths, there was a mixture of cries and tears, but none that could be heard. Jonas just lit up a cigarette, and then told J.K. coldly, "I'm going to use the bathroom now. When I'm back, I want you out of here." J.K. didn't reply, but only nodded, as she clutched the napkins to her right. With that nod, Jonas left her there, sobbing.

For the first few minutes, J.K. stayed and sobbed for a bit, and walked over to the bathroom. J.K. was unsure how to feel, but for the most part all of her emotions were hideously unpleasant. She was confused and depressed, but it was much deeper than that. It was something that made her feel as if she had lost everything that she really cared for. Harry had become her meaning to continue, and now that he was no longer there, she felt like she always had. A single tear left J.K.'s eye after the event, but now it was decided and done. She had lost him, and there was nothing she could do.  
As she made her way to the stalls, J.K. couldn't help but stop, as she heard some noises coming from the men's room. The rest rooms were set up so that way they were right next to each other, yet the drywall made it possible to hear the conversations going on in the other rooms. Normally, it was a either the hissing of a broken valve or a casual conversation about the sex lives of some of the employees who worked in the restaurant, but the voice she heard was different as she sat quietly in her stall and sulked. It was Jonas, but it was difficult to listen to him. J.K. put her ear against the wall, and listened to what Jonas was saying.  
_"Okay, J.K. just made a change to the project. I was thinking that maybe we could just tell Harry that he can... Look, we can't do that, it's a bit... No, I'm not willing to do that. Human or not, he hasn't done anything wrong, and... Wait... No, I'm just... Look, okay, I'll do it. Just, don't hurt her. I'll... I'll do it. I'll kill Harry."_  
J.K. gasped quietly, as Jonas immediately stopped talking. He said to the man on the phone, _"Hold on. There's someone here."_ J.K. whimpered, but tried not to make a sound, as Jonas put his ear on the wall. After only a moment, Jonas pulled back, and said, _"Sorry, it was just my imagination. Anyway..."_ With caution, J.K. sneaked out of the ladies bathroom, and hurried to the car. There was no time.


	10. Sorry Guys

_Due to recent events, and because I've been trying to get to my school work this week as well as my college applications, I'm going to have to stop writing for a bit because of all the stress. Don't distress to much if you're a fan of the series, though, because I'm not going to completely give up on it just yet. It's just that now I need some time to plan for my own future, and I'm going to have to postpone my writing until further notice. Thanks for all you're support, and I hope you have a nice day._


End file.
